Scarred
by Emilamoo
Summary: He'll forever be haunted by her image. The image of her dying. But she'll always be there for him. Two years post-movie. Short, thrown-together one-shot. Rated for some slightly graphic/violent descriptions. Drama/Angst/Romance. Colter "Sean"/Christina


**I don't know where this came from. All I know is that I sat down and cranked this out in a couple of hours. It's late. I'm tired. My brain is fried from studying. I'm also watching television. What's the point of my rambling? This is no where near perfect- or even good, I should say. It's kind of- I dunno- random. And really pathetic/fluffy at the end. But I figured I'd post it anyway. I've had a couple of ideas for Source Code since the minute after I finished watching Source Code for the first time opening night.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Source Code, otherwise, Michelle Monaghan would be one of my best friends, and Jake Gyllenhaal would be my husband (like on Facebook and Sims 2).**

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><p><strong>Scarred<strong>

Colter couldn't help but see Christina's face, over and over, burning and burning and burning. The heat from the bomb melting her skin off, the impact blasting back at the same time, peeling like a when you try to pull off a wad of chewed up gum stuck in your hair. Her smile dripping off, hair frying in the heat, skin charring instantly. Something of so much beauty transforming- no, _distorting- _into something so horrible, so terrifying, so grotesque within a matter of seconds.

Or he'd see her lying on the cool blacktop, blood pooling all around her with that far-away look in her eyes as he watched her, unable to save her.

It [her image] haunted him, haunted his dreams. Dreams where one minute he's kissing her senseless, and the next, she's turned into a mass of melted anatomy in front of him or on the ground shot. He'd wake up in a cold sweat, writhing in the bed sheets, hyperventilating. He'd have to run all the way to her apartment, use his set of keys to enter, and watch her sleep- perfectly alive- before he could relax again. Some would call it creepy, but he found there seemed to be no other method of remedy.

They got worse. The frightening, gruesome, gory images began popping up in his head during the day at unexpected times. He'd be looking for engagement rings for when he was going to ask her The Question one minute, and her death would swarm his brain and invaded all his senses; he'd hear her gasp, her skin sizzling, the gunshot sounding, her body hitting the ground; he'd smell her hair on fire, her burnt skin; he'd feel her sticky blood on his hands, her tears hitting his face (although neither of those actually occurred, he could still imagine them); he'd taste the heat from the fire, her lips before they left his; and he'd see her dying before his eyes.

They took over his mind, refusing to leave, replaying like a never-ending horror movie with those you loved as the main victims. He'd flee to the nearest bathroom or empty office, howling and his hands covering his ears, before sinking to the floor, body racking with uncontrollable sobs. He wouldn't be able to stop until he was able to hear her voice through the phone, assuring him that she was very much alive.

Once they'd gotten engaged, they'd moved in together almost immediately. At first, her constant presence calmed his nightmares, almost to the point where they no longer existed. But it didn't take long before they came back. Luckily, it they were much less frequent and only occurred at night, but it still took a lot of patience on Christina's part to work with someone who was dealing with a post-traumatic experience that was unexplainable. They'd try visiting a psychologist and a doctor dealing specifically with post-trauma, but if anything, they only made the situations worse.

One time, after a particularly horrid nightmare, Colter woke up thrashing, screaming into the night, drenched in his own sweat, and tangled in his sheets. "Christina!" She woke up instantly, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around his fragile frame and hugging him tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here. I'm alive, and I'm never going to leave you. Shh," she assured him soothingly, murmuring into his ear.

He clung to her desperately, clutching her tightly to his body. "I saw you again. Y-you were so hurt, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save you…"

Tears began to roll down his cheeks, and she began to cry as well, the salty water streaming and dripping off her chin. "Oh, Sean. You've already saved me. Don't even say that…" her voice trailed off.

She leaned back slightly and kissed his forehead tenderly, tears plopping down onto his skin. She kissed away his tears, her lips lingering in front of his face so that he could feel her soft, warm breath falling onto him. She slipped her tank top up and over her head, exposed to him in nothing but a bra and pajama pants. Taking his trembling hand, she pulls it up to her lips and kisses it lightly before placing it over her heart.

"Sean, do you feel that?" He nods, feeling a strong, steady pumping beneath his hand. "That's my heartbeat. As you can tell, it's going strong, proof that I'm alive. It's all going to be all right. I will _never _leave you."

His eyes met hers uncertainly. "You promise?"

She slid her shirt back on and tugged at the hem of his undershirt, taking it off. "I promise," she whispered, brushing her lips across his bare chest, where she knew he would be forever scarred from his eternal fears. "I promise to love you forever and never leave you."

He dipped his head down to kiss her fervently, as if assuring himself that she was still there, in his arms. After a bit, he pulled back and just hugged her, crushing her to him. Shaking his head, he chuckled humorlessly, snorting a bit. "Are you sure you still want to get married to a crazy nutshell with a boatload of weird, unexplainable baggage like me?"

She placed a peck in the crook of his neck, the corners of her lips turning up into a smile. "Yes, of course I do. I'd rather spend the rest of my life with a crazy nutshell like you than any other boring, sane person."

Both grinning, she slid down further into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, legs tangling together. Snuggling into the space between her head and shoulder, he kissed on the cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I will get better. Don't give up on me."

"Never."

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><p><strong>I warned you. Thoughts? <strong>

**Also, I highly suggest some other people write some Source Code fanfiction. I love the movie and would enjoy reading what other people wrote. :) Plus, I have another idea of an alternative ending, in which Colter does end up having to go back, and everyone (or just Christina, I have decided yet) dies. :P In my opinion, the ending was a bit unusually fluffy for me. It kinda seemed out of place from all the drama throughout the other parts of the movie.**


End file.
